Overkill(23)

“Of course the media never let up. That was to be expected. But fans would approach me, too. I couldn’t go anywhere, do anything, without being hounded. Even friends too sensitive to bring it up were dying to get the skinny. I could feel their curiosity.”

Kate hadn’t moved or said anything, but had continued to watch him with intensity. Now she said, “Could you have been just a tad paranoid?”

“Possibly. Probably. But at the crux of it, Rebecca’s circumstances came to define me, not her.”

“I see that. I’m sorry.”

“It was a disservice to her, too. Anyhow, I couldn’t wait for training camp to start. At least that would restore my focus, discipline, routine. I counted on the upcoming season to be a diversion, not only for me but for everybody else. But the locker room smack began the first day of camp and soon became intolerable. You know how it is.”

She gave a faint smile. “Actually I don’t.”

“Nothing’s sacred. Barbs. Insults. Innuendo. Everything’s fair game. But I’d hear things like, ‘Give me a chance to pull the plug on my ex. I’d do it in a heartbeat. Oops. No pun intended.’”

“God, how awful.”

“And that was from my teammates, guys who liked me, who were joking. Opposing players were ruthless. I’d hear junk like that on the playing field. They did it to distract me, of course, and it did. Best mind-fuck ever. Sorry, but that’s what it was.”

“It’s all right.”

“You’re not prissy.”

She gave that half smile again. “I guess not.”

“My game began to slip. I threw two interceptions in one game. First time in my career for that to happen. After the game I got into it with the intended receivers, blamed them for the turnovers. Another first in my career, and something I’m ashamed of to this day.

“Mid-season, I got a back sprain that kept me on the injured list for the next four games. Any other time that would have infuriated me, but I secretly looked on that injury as a welcome reprieve. Backup guy did his best, but we had our first losing season since the team had signed me. Fans got angry, sportswriters got snarky. Word came down from the head office for me to get my shit together before next season. But no pressure, right?”

She laughed softly. “I predicted you’d say that at some point.”

“Now you can stop waiting for it.” He turned his head and glanced out the window above the sink. “It’s getting foggy.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Deputy Dave warned you about driving in fog.”

“I’ll take it slow.”

He turned back and looked at her. “Or you could bunk here tonight.”





Chapter 10





Kate lifted her chin off the prop of her fist and lowered her gaze to the surface of the island.

Zach said, “No strings.”

She kept her head lowered and didn’t say anything. Maybe she had a prissy streak after all, he thought. Or maybe she had a significant other, and he’d been wrong about her feeling the tug of attraction that he was. In either case, he’d plopped the baited line into the water. He waited her out, curious to see if she would bite.

She didn’t. When at last she spoke, she returned them to the subject. “The next season, you were no longer the team’s starting quarterback.”

He wondered how she knew that. It didn’t mean she’d followed the team, only that she’d done her homework before making the trip across the state line to inform him that she had the authority and intention of crapping up his life again.

He returned to his counter stool and sat down. “Yeah, they picked up a guy from Bama in the draft. That was the beginning of the end of my career. I warmed the bench most of that season. At the end of it, the team let me go. Nobody else was interested. By then, I was thirty-three years old and had had two bad seasons back-to-back.”

“That’s when the network hired you.”

“Yeah, to talk about a game I could no longer play. It became increasingly harder to do commentary without the chip I was carrying on my shoulder coming through my voice.”

“You entered the drunk-and-disorderly phase.”

“Which was exposed to the world during a Sunday night playoff game. Rival teams, the Super Bowl at stake, huge viewing audience. I showed up to the set drunk. I insulted the makeup artist who tried her best to conceal the dark circles under my eyes. I verbally abused the sound guy who was trying to adjust my mike level so my slurring wouldn’t be so obvious. All this before the first commercial break.”

He gave a rueful huff. “They pitched me off the set during the halftime break. That was the end of that. I couldn’t even talk about the game anymore.”

“Do you miss it?”

It surprised him that she asked. “Playing, you mean? Yes. I started in grade school, so I’ve spent more years of my life playing than not. Yeah, I miss the game a lot.”

“The fame?”

“Not at all.”

“Honestly?” She gave him a punch on his arm. “How bad could it have been to be worshiped and adored by thousands?”

“It definitely had its perks.” He gave her a grin, but it was short-lived. Serious again, he said, “Honestly, it was absolutely fantastic. But then fame turned to infamy. I don’t want either back, thank you.”